


weaving the colours and patterns of fate

by RyDyKG



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, I hate tagging so damn much, Sewing, TommyInnit Has Powers, TommyInnit-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:08:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27504316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyDyKG/pseuds/RyDyKG
Summary: Everyone has their hobbies. Everyone has the things they like to do. Tommy’s ‘hobby’ is just a lot more powerful than anyone realises.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Floris | Fundy & Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Jordan Maron & TommyInnit, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 43
Kudos: 779
Collections: Sodium's favourites





	weaving the colours and patterns of fate

**Author's Note:**

> I hate this I hate this so so so much-
> 
> This is just me writing an au about my au. It’s,,, I’ll be honest, some things might not make sense. It’s probably because I was in a Mood when I wrote this. Not sure if I should put it in the series or not, though.
> 
> Don’t expect this to be good. Please.
> 
> I’ve been calling this the Fateweaver! AU... and then I realised there was actually someone with the name Fateweaver, so now I’m not sure if I took that name from them or I had made it up before I knew.

Everyone has their hobbies. Some like to cook, some like to read, some like to sing. Sometimes, they hide them, and other times, they don’t. It’s just the way everyone is.

It’s a little known secret that Tommy likes to sew. As in, weaving threads to form clothes, with a needle in one hand and a thread of cloth in another, that kind of sewing.

But unlike most people who like sewing, he rarely does it. In fact, he can count on both hands the amount of times he’s done it.

When Phil asked him about it, he responded with something along the lines of it being more of a hobby he does whenever he’s feeling sad. When Tubbo asked him about it, he responded with something along the lines of having to keep up his reputation and not having much time to enjoy it.

In reality, none of those reasons are true. In reality, sewing is his way of creating destinies, and he refuses to manipulate anyone to do his bidding anymore. He refuses to be feared, to be praised solely to dissuade him from ruining lives, to be _deitified_.

Because he’s not a deity. He’s just a boy who just attracted the attention of beings too omnipresent for normal people to comprehend. And he pays — has paid — the price for it.

He keeps a pouch with one thread of as many colours he can get. He keeps it tightly locked, and not even his family can look in it. No one really pays attention to it; it’s just a simple brown pouch, after all.

But for him, if they get into the wrong hands, everyone won’t be happy. The colours have different meanings, and if someone with an enchanted needle is to use them to sew without thought…

He can’t bear to think of what might happen.

The colours have meanings, and so do the patterns he puts them in. Weaving warm colours with cold colours means conflict between ‘good’ and ‘bad’ will happen, and it’ll be clear who’s in ‘good’ and ‘bad’. Weaving warm colours hold many meanings, but if blood red is first then war will be fought.

They hold many meanings depending on where they’re put, and how long the colours last for holds meaning, too.

Tommy doesn't memorise the meanings. It’s not like he can, what with so many of them. But when he picks up a needle and a thread, he can remember everything, and that’s enough for the time being.

He first weaved fate when he was seven. 

It was just before night was falling, and he had nowhere to go. He had nothing on him either, except for a pouch he had woken up one day with, filled with threads and needles.

In desperation, and after seeing a few people knit, Tommy tried to sew himself a jumper. He didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but he had taken out a string of green, yellow, blue and red and started weaving.

Not long after he successfully weaved them all together, there was a tap on his shoulder. Startled, he almost fell over, and looked up to face a kind smile from a blond stranger, who invited him to stay with him and his family for the night.

Tommy had accepted reluctantly, and was given a spare mattress to sleep on, and a spare blanket. It was warm. It was cozy. It was weird.

That night, someone visited his dreams.

He faced a woman wearing a dress made of seemingly every colour and pattern in the world, a wreath of rainbow-coloured flowers on her head. She smiled brightly, if sadly, at him.

That night, he’d learned of the future he had weaved and binded, and what colours did what, and what he’d have to do with his needle and his threads.

Sometimes, he wished he never learned, because then he wouldn’t have to worry if Phil, Wilbur and Techno loved him because they truly did, or if it was because of what he’d sewed.

He only sews once on SMP Earth. When Business Bay is about to go to war with God.

Tommy may be young, and he may be kind of an idiot, but he knows they won’t win this. Not without the help of fate, at least.

He takes out a needle and a thread of red and gold, weaving perpendicular to each other, up and down, up and down. He doesn’t stop until he makes a bunch of bracelets.

The next day, Business Bay goes to war, wearing bracelets of red and gold. The next day, they fight God. The next day, they win.

Nobody ever suspects anything about the bracelets.

He had promised himself he wouldn’t sew anymore. Sometimes he did, but it was for the little things, things that brought the people he loved luck, not things that changed fates and destinies.

But the war for L’manburg changed some of that.

On the day before he was to duel Dream for L’manburg’s freedom, he stares at the brown pouch for hours, wondering if he truly needed to do it. After all, he knows Dream was powerful; he will die, for sure.

But he has a chance. And winning L’manburg’s freedom… it will make his loved ones happy.

So he takes out a thread of yellow and green, and weaves a small worm, barely 3 inches long.

He doesn’t win the duel against Dream, but that’s okay, because he wins L’manburg’s freedom later on.

Wilbur’s gone crazy.

Tubbo’s been hurt by Technoblade.

Niki’s hurt emotionally.

They need to get L’manburg back.

Tommy knows all of these facts are true. And so are more.

He lets Niki wipe the blood and grime from his face, and when he can, excuses himself from everyone else.

When he’s alone, he takes out his brown pouch, and stares at its contents.

Should he dare to play with the strings of fate once more? Should he dare to spin destinies that would’ve never happened if he hadn’t? Should he make everything go according to plan again?

Should he lie to everyone again?

In the morning, Tommy walks out and demands to be trained by Techno. The brown pouch is left untouched.

It’s basically everyone against Schlatt and Dream.

Fundy and Quackity are now firmly in Pogtopia’s side, but Tommy knows they think he’s the traitor.

As if he’d give up what he won so easily. As if he’s going to give up the land he bled and fought for without a fight.

No. Schlatt and Dream are going down, and this time, they won’t rise back up again.

Tommy grips his brown pouch and shakes it lightly. What is so light feels so heavy in his grasps. 

Tubbo calls him to come for dinner. He sighs softly, puts it away for now, and goes to dinner.

That night, he weaves threads of black, blue, red, yellow, and white, in a pattern similar to the L’manburg flag. He doesn’t stop, not even when Wilbur opens the door to his room, only to pause at the sight of him sewing and weaving. He doesn’t stop when everyone’s practically crowded at the door, some even coming inside his room, all looking at him doing something so unexpected, so unlike _Tommy_.

He doesn’t stop until he has enough necklaces for everyone in Pogtopia. Then, he carefully puts back the threads and needle into his pouch with trembling, red hands. The necklaces look deceptively innocent, but he knows what they truly mean. Or rather, what they truly do.

He takes a deep breath, and puts one on. Then, he gathers all of the necklaces, and holds them out to everyone, eyes never leaving their faces.

“For luck,” he says when they ask him. “Promise me you'll wear it everywhere you go, please.”

He hopes that they do.

Out of everyone, it’s Captain Sparklez who finds out about his power first.

After the wars stopped and everyone slowly but surely started mending bonds and friendships again, Dream decides to open up the server for friends, as visitors.

Captain Sparklez is one of the few who comes first. He stands tall and high, and he’s generally a nice person to everyone in the SMP, no matter how they treat or talk to him in return.

Tommy tolerates him for Tubbo, at the very least. If he doesn’t have the needle and the thread, if he was never given a ‘gift’ from the gods, maybe he would’ve liked him just as much.

As it is, he’s ‘blessed’ by the gods, and he knows Sparklez is too, what with his story of Mianite and all. And he knows the other knows about him too, based on the way he keeps shooting those kinds of looks at him, looks that he’s ignoring as much as possible. 

But eventually, his luck runs out, and Sparklez corners him in a room.

“You’re just like me, aren’t you?” he asks him.

Tommy shrugs, not even bothering to hide it anymore. “Depends on what you think is ‘like you’.”

His eyes flicker to the pouch strapped to his belt, and Tommy knows he’s figured it out.

Slowly, Sparklez steps back. “I can manipulate morality,” he says. “And if I put enough power into it, memories.”

“I can manipulate destinies,” Tommy responds quietly. “Fates, futures, whatever you call it.”

Sparklez looks at him, and smiles. “You can call me Jordan,” he offers out a hand.

It’s probably a bad idea, to surround himself with someone like him. It might put a bigger target on his back — however unlikely it is — or get him into trouble he doesn’t want.

But it’s been so long since he can truly confide to someone about his secret, so he takes the hand and grasps it firmly. 

“You can call me Tommy, but I think you already know that,” he says. “So I guess you can give me a nickname.”

Jordan and him step out of the room with newfound knowledge of each other. People are startled when the other starts calling him ‘Chickadee’.

“I’m sure m'lady would love to meet you one day,” Jordan grins at him, one day. “I could take you to visit her.

Tommy hums, and thinks of his own goddess, rarely communicating anymore, but he knows she’s watching out for him.

“Sure,” he responds. “I’ll go.”

Tommy is sitting on top of a hill when he hears Dream speak up.

“You and the Captain have been getting close lately, haven't you?” he says.

Tommy shrugs as Dream sits down next to him. “Well, obviously, yeah. Are you really that oblivious to have to ask? And here I thought you were good.”

Dream doesn’t respond. Tommy knows he’s staring at him, at the pouch he’s carefully cradling in his hands.

“Is that how you’ve been the center of everything?” Dream asks. 

“Of course not,” and that isn’t a lie. He’s promised himself to never use it so selfishly, so foolishly, and he’s kept it up.

The other hums. “Will you ever use it against this SMP?”

“No,” Tommy replies firmly. “I would never. Shouldn’t you already know that?”

Dream chuckles. He stands up.

“I’ll leave you to your thing,” he says casually. “You’re a good kid, Tommy. A real good one.”

Tommy sits on the hill quietly and watches the Sun set. It’s nice.

Tommy accompanies Tubbo and Fundy on a dreamon hunting session one day. It’s simultaneously the best and worst thing to ever happen to him.

In the end, the dreamon’s gone, Tommy has a new blue-gold napkin, and Fundy and Tubbo are staring at him with eyes and mouths wide open. If he hadn’t just revealed his secret to them, he would laugh. As it is, he did, so he sighs and helps them up.

“I’ll explain once we get you guys all healed up,” Tommy tells them. And because he definitely can’t lie his way out of this, he does.

They ask him so many questions it’s almost hard to keep up. And when they’re done, Fundy absentmindedly asks him one last question.

“I’m kinda surprised you never decided to do more. I mean, you can, can’t you?”

Tommy pauses.

It is true, he can do so much and no one would ever suspect anything. He could take over worlds, conquer servers, he could’ve won every war and fight he’s been in.

But power corrupts, he knows that. Phil, Techno and Wilbur have taught him better than that. And, he thinks, deep down, he doesn’t want to be lonely.

“Nah,” he says easily. “That’d just be too easy, and I never take the easy way out.”

His name is Tommy. He holds the power to determine fates and destinies in his hand.

And perhaps if he hadn’t grown up the way he has, with Techno and Phil and Wilbur, he would’ve done things differently, become a different person with this power in his hands. Perhaps he would’ve been corrupted, or broken, or ended up permanently dead.

But he has friends who can help him. He has a mentor he can ask questions to. He has a family who he can seek out for comfort when he needs it.

His name is Tommy, and in the end, he’s just a kid.

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to work on Tanzanite, but unfortunately writer’s block caught up to me. So I ŵrote this instead! Haha, I’m a very productive person :’D

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [bleeding needle.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27737368) by [peppermint_advertiser](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermint_advertiser/pseuds/peppermint_advertiser)




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